


We'll See Another Day

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Case Fic, Drama, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 03:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was one of the times being a seriously hot-blooded Italian was going to come in handy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll See Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> This isn’t full-blown case fic but they are on a case. I was in the middle of typing out another story when their conversation popped into my head. They have this thing they do...distracting me in the best ways. The title comes from the Sarah McLachlan song, Hold On.

“Stop bitching.”

“Really?” Hotch asked through clenched teeth. “That’s your advice?”

“That’s all I got.”

“You're a son of a bitch.” Hotch grimaced in pain. “Check that, you're a goddamn son of a bitch.”

“I love you too pumpkin.” Rossi replied.

“Now is not the time to make me laugh.”

“Well we need to do something to cut the tension. Sit still, Aaron, I almost got it.”

Rossi stood next to Hotch with a small flashlight in his mouth. It was trained on Hotch’s upper arm. In his hands were a pair of small scissors and he was in the process of removing a bullet. Hotch had been shot just moments before they were shoved and locked in the basement. 

It wasn’t a through and through but the small caliber of the gun meant it wasn’t such a bad bleeder either. Of course that was because Rossi hadn't gotten the bullet out yet. This was really crude surgery; he felt bad for the scars it would leave. Hotch had enough of those to last him a lifetime.

“I'm trying but it hurts. You do realize you're digging into my arm with scissors, right?”

“I was going to say something so inappropriate…”

“Don’t even think about it Dave.” The Unit Chief rolled his eyes.

“Why? We’re alone so it’s not like anyone is going to hear us.”

“Stop.”

“Tell me about the best place you ever made love.” now Dave grimaced as he lost the grip on the bullet. Some blood came gushing out of the wound…he sopped it up with Hotch’s tee shirt.

“That’s easy, a hammock on my mother’s back porch in the middle of the night when she had no idea what I was doing down there.” Hotch said.

“Your mother loves me. She might not if she knew what I did to you on that hammock.” 

“She loves you because you play that role for her. You’re sweet David from Long Island who goes to get things from the refrigerator and finds all of her stories fascinating.”

“Even if I wasn’t sweet David from Long Island I’d still find your mother’s stories fascinating. I got it; fucking bugger.”

“Yank it out.”

“You really want me to say something inappropriate don’t you? Hold still, this is going to hurt like hell.”

They were all alone there so Hotch didn’t give a damn when he screamed like a bitch. Dave didn’t seem to mind either. He dropped the bullet on the table as he rushed to stop the bleeding. He used Hotch’s tie as a tourniquet and then his tee shirt as a bandage. 

Neither knew how long they would be down there but it surely wouldn’t be forever. The bad guys weren't coming back; their plan was to get the hell out of dodge. Morgan and Prentiss knew where they’d gone and red flags would fly when they weren't back in a certain time. Then they would be rescued. Waiting was the part that sucked ass.

“Was that your stomach?” Hotch looked at Dave.

“I'm hungry. I didn’t have enough at breakfast.”

“Breakfast was probably seven hours ago.”

“Hence my stomach singing like Laura Branigan. Are you alright, Aaron? Do you feel lightheaded, dizzy, nauseous, or anything like that?”

“I feel a little lightheaded but I'm alright. Do you mind if I just lean on you a little?”

“C'mere you.” Dave couldn’t help but smile when he put his arm around him. 

It was the first time he noticed the basement was cold. They weren't wearing a lot of clothes today. It was late fall but Thunderbolt, Georgia was having a serious Indian summer. Though Daylight Savings Time had come and gone in the past week, temperatures were still clocking in well over 90 degrees in the small town. Locals said this was the second year in a row of this kind of weather. The basement was maybe 60 degrees and it was a shock to their systems. With blood loss being a problem, Dave’s top priority was keeping Aaron warm.

“I can't believe Kesey got the jump on us.” Hotch murmured.

“We don’t even know if it was Kesey. It all happened too fast. I think I shot one of them; if that’s any consolation.”

“Not really since they’re on the road somewhere and we’re in a basement. I'm cold, Dave.”

“I know.” Rossi rubbed Hotch’s good arm. “I should probably check and see if there are any blankets down here, or something. Where’s your flashlight?”

Hotch took it from his hip and handed it to Dave. He turned them both on, moving around the basement. One was trained on the ground and the other in front of him. The room was huge, as basements in the South tended to be. 

You could hide an entire family down here or a meth lab. So far Rossi didn’t see anything like that. He also didn’t see any blankets, jackets, or clothes of any kind. But there was a closet in the far back corner. 

“I'm going to check out the closet.” He said.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Hotch replied.

“Why?” he looked back.

“Oh c'mon, I know you’ve seen scary movies. There’s either a body or a serial killer in there.”

“Seriously?” he raised his eyebrow. “I'm not allowing you to have movie night at Penelope’s anymore.”

Hotch snickered and then shivered. It was cold down there and the tee shirt around his arm was nearly soaked through with his blood. He would need to warm up soon or things could go from bad to worse. He watched Dave pull his gun from his hip and train it on the closet door. He gingerly put his hand on the knob, took a deep breath, and opened it. 

“Shit.”

“What?” Hotch asked.

“It’s empty…there's nothing in there.”

“Damn. OK, Plan B.”

Rossi didn’t have a Plan B. He had a cell phone though, so did Hotch, but there was no service. They were too far underground and Thunderbolt only had two cell phone towers anyway. In vain, he looked at his phone again as he made his way back to the table. 

He didn’t see a single bar. But he did see Hotch shivering. His face was paler than normal. Dammit where was Morgan? His radar always went off if someone was five minutes late. 

Plus, as much as neither wanted to admit it, Hotch and Morgan were connected somehow. One always seemed to know when the other was in trouble and they came for them. Initially that connection concerned Dave. Right now he needed it to be dead on.

“I have a lighter.” Dave said. “I could set something on fire.”

“I think the only thing in here is this table. I don’t know if I'm willing to sit on the cold floor. Plus it’s steel so it wouldn’t make the best kindling. We’d probably die of smoke inhalation before we warmed up.”

“That’s a dour statistic I would expect from Reid.”

“He’d be able to back it up with numbers.” Hotch smiled.

“You're right.”

Rossi got back on the table. He moved behind Hotch, telling him to lean on him. Then, being careful of the injured arm, he wrapped his arms around him. Body heat was going to have to do. This was one of the times being a seriously hot-blooded Italian was going to come in handy.

“Does your mother even know we’re lovers?” Dave asked.

“Yes.” Hotch rolled his eyes. 

“I know that tone. What happened?”

“She asked if we were going to get married the last time I talked to her. She said she read an article about gay marriage being passed in DC and Maryland. Mama shouldn’t be allowed to read articles. I told her you'd already been married three times.”

“What did she say to that?” Rossi asked, holding Hotch tighter as he shivered.

“She said that wasn’t surprising. Then she told me that she’d love me no matter what and so would Tug. Why are we having this conversation?”

“We just need to keep talking.”

“Well you can start talking about yourself at any time.” Hotch said. “Who was your first lover?”

“No comment.”

“Oh c'mon,” Hotch looked back at him, surprised but not unhappy when Rossi kissed him. “I can handle it.”

“Those are famous last words, babe. I know from whence I speak.”

“OK, OK, tell me about your first kiss.”

“That’s an easy one. Her name was Colleen Bosko; she was a Polish girl with big black eyes. She ensorcelled me at summer camp when I was eleven. The boys and girls were separated but we used to have bonfires at night. She grabbed me the third night we were there and planted one on me. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. To this day I have a fondness for hot dogs and Love’s Baby Soft because of her. But she’s also the first girl who dumped me. We were hot and heavy for over a week and then on the school bus home she said it was over. I was floored. I've probably spent my whole life chasing the fading light of Colleen Bosko.”

“I hope you're joking.” Hotch replied even though he smiled.

“I am.” Dave nodded. “Was Haley your first kiss?”

Before Hotch could answer, they heard the car pulling up the dirt drive. Three doors opened and closed, which meant three people got out. They weren't sure what to do. If it was the suspects or some other nefarious people, banging on the door might get them killed. If it was their team and they didn’t think to look in the basement, Hotch and Rossi might never be found.

“It’s your decision.” He told Hotch. “I’ll shoot them all if I have to; I have your back.”

“Do it.”

Nodding, Dave moved over and climbed off the table. Before he could walk away, Hotch took his hand and pulled him close again.

“I love you, Dave.”

“Me too.” he kissed him softly. “Me more.”

Hotch smiled again and let him go. There were only two choices; live or die. No way in hell was he dying in a basement. There was a lot of life left to live. He also wasn’t going to let Dave have not saving him on his conscience. So he let him go up those stairs and bang on the heavy wooden door not knowing what was out there.

“Hey! Someone help us! We’re trapped down here!”

“Rossi? Is that you?” the voice of Emily Prentiss filtered down.

“Yeah, Prentiss; Hotch and I are down here. Get us out of here. He’s been shot and needs a doctor.”

“Oh my God…Morgan!”

Hotch didn’t hear much else after that; they weren't doing a lot of talking. They were trying to get them out of there. Eventually, Morgan told Rossi to go down the steps. Then he shot the lock off. Just as light filtered into the basement and his team came running down the stairs, Aaron Hotchner passed out from blood loss.

***

“Is this heaven?” he asked in a drowsy whisper as he came to in an unfamiliar place.

“Cute Aaron,” Dave smiled at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Still a bit woozy but I’ll survive. Where am I?”

“You're at the Memorial University Medical Center ER in Savannah. They didn’t feel the need to admit you. They just gave you a blood transfusion and cleaned your wound so your arm wouldn’t fall off from gangrene. I'm sure they'll give you antibiotics as well.”

“Hey, if I ever get shot and trapped in a basement again I only want you with me. You carry scissors? I didn’t even know that. It’s very MacGyver of you.”

“Always be prepared, isn’t that what the Boy Scouts say.”

“I had no idea you were a Boy Scout.” Hotch replied.

“I wasn’t. But I like being prepared anyway. Morgan stayed for a while but I told him to go back to the police station or the hotel to get some rest. You were going to be OK.”

“Did they get Kesey? Please tell me they got the bastard.”

“No, but they're searching his house right now. Unfortunately it’s easy to get lost in Savannah so he might be on the loose for a while. That should give authorities the time they need to nail his ass to the wall. Our job here is done.”

“We’re leaving tonight?”

“No, I called Quantico and told Strauss we were staying one more day. We came as a team and that’s how we leave. Our fearless leader needs a good night’s sleep.”

“That would be nice. I don’t think I've had one of those since the first Bush was in office.”

“You're in luck then.” Dave smiled. “You just happen to be madly in love with someone who has extraordinary good night’s sleep skills.”

“You're highly skilled in so many areas, Agent Rossi.” 

“Shh, don’t make me wanna kiss you in this hospital.” He came and sat down on the side of the bed Hotch was lying in. He took his hand. “I'm just glad you're going to be OK.”

“I wish I could say ‘it just grazed me’ like they do in the movies but no, I got shot today.”

“I know…I was there. I’ll go and get the doctor so he can discharge you and I can get you back to the hotel. The rest of the team wants to make sure you're alright. I’ll even let the girls fawn all over you.”

“That’s because you love me.” Hotch replied.

“Don’t you ever forget that, Aaron Hotchner.” Dave said.

Hotch smiled again, closing his eyes as Dave walked out of the room. This wasn’t the first time he was shot in the line. It was a hazard of the job. Hotch couldn’t even say it would be the last time. But he would make it. 

He would live to see another day, read another story with his son, lead his team again, and spend some time with the man he loved. Tonight the only thing on his mind was this elusive good night’s sleep. While he didn’t like how it was coming to him, Hotch planned to enjoy every second of it and Dave’s extraordinary skills.

***


End file.
